Cops And Robbers
by blackhearteddestruction
Summary: The tragic tale of a robber and an undercover cop who couldn't help but walk down the treacherous path of falling in love.  Mr. White Larry /Mr. Orange Freddy  .


**Title: **The Cop And The Thief  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't know why I bother putting a disclaimer because do you really think the owner of Resevior Dogs writes fanfiction in their spare time? If I had created this movie (or owned any of this movie) I would be rich and not bothering to write poorly written fanfics.  
><strong>Notes: <strong>This story is unbeta'd, and therefore all the mistakes are clearly mine. Most likely there are quite a few, so if anyone wants to point them out politely I will be happy to listen and change them. Thanks! Oh yes, and please **review**, it makes me happy.

There they are in a shitty motel room, in a fucking crappy bed that squeaks every time someone so much as breathes, but Freddy has never been so happy. He hadn't gone out of his way to seek love; instead it had hidden around a corner lying in wait before surprising him like a criminal. For once he's happy to be knocked out and surprised. He knows he's breaking too many police codes to even count, but at this instant he doesn't care. Love was presented at his doorstep wrapped in a pretty big red bow, and he couldn't help but open it, even if it turned out to be a bomb later.

Freddy turns over so that he can face his sleeping lover the bed creaks in protest but he ignores it. He doesn't know why but at this very point in time everything feels peaceful and happy. Time seems to be completely still in this room; even the goddamn birds haven't made a peep yet.

At this precise moment Freddy is no longer a cop, and Larry is no longer a thief. They are just themselves and it makes Freddy want to weep with joy. He doesn't cry though, instead he smiles softly at Larry's sleeping face. The features have softened making him look like an unthreatening and considerably younger polar bear.

Freddy runs his fingers down the bridge of Larry's nose letting it rest gently against the tip. Larry grabs his wrist before he opens his eyes and kisses Freddy's palm. They're both silent for the longest time just staring into each others eyes captivated.

Larry breaks the silence when he lets go of Freddy's wrist reaching over and placing an open mouthed kiss on Freddy's lips before saying, "You're up early."

"It's not early, we slept in," Freddy chuckles, gently running his hand down Larry's arm.

Larry stretches, raising his hands above his head and sits up. Freddy follows closely behind and sighs when he places his head against Larry's shoulder revelling in the amount of comfort it gives him. Freddy knows that it's weird to feels so safe during moments like these, where at any moment he could be revealed as the fraud he truly is.

There is a little voice in the back of his head that whispers when he tries to sleep that he's a fucking liar and doesn't deserve the happiness that has been presented to him. The voice causes his chest squeeze and makes it difficult to breathe as he tries to fight away the sadness which suddenly engulfs him. He pushes the thought away quickly ignoring the whispers.

Then he suddenly the urge to tell the truth gets too much. Freddy knows what will happen when he finally reveals that he's a fake, a fraud. He's pictured his death a thousand different ways, picturing it a few more times doesn't change anything. The death that Freddy's always enjoyed (or at least as much as a person can when picturing their own fucking death) is thought of Larry being the one to kill him, maybe even shooting him with tears in his eyes. Freddy almost thinks that he doesn't even deserve a death like that.

He opens his mouth and closes it until he has the nerve to say it the; three little words that have nothing to do with I love you (although Freddy wants to say those magic words too).

"I…" _I'm a cop_, he tries to say but stops_._

"It's okay, you don't have to say it," Larry says burying his head in Freddy's hair, inhaling the sweet scent. "I love you too."

Freddy stays silent as he feels hands run through his hair. How could he tell Larry the truth about everything? There was a time when Freddy thought that this was a fucking game. A stupid game of cops and robbers that he used to play as a child, now all he thinks about is the ultimate act of betrayal that had occurred.

Freddy was in love Larry and Larry loved him—no, not the real him of course. Larry loved the person who went by the alias Mr. Orange and did petty crimes, not the cop who took down criminals no matter what the cost.

Freddy hoped that one day Larry would love him because he took down criminals, that wouldn't be anytime soon though. In the near future he hoped that he would be able to convince Larry to back out of the operation. Maybe he'd be able to work up his courage soon, not today, but soon.

Time flies by fast though; faster then one would expect. It's now here, it's the day of the operation (which hadn't gone as smoothly as everyone had hoped, himself included) and he hadn't mentioned anything to Larry. And above all here he is, blood gushing onto the cold concrete floor with a fucking bullet in his chest. He knows he was going to die, and it frightens him.

He's lost too much blood and everything is passing by him at blurry random speeds. The next thing he understands is someone's saying that he's working with LAPD, and he opens his mouth pushing out words that he isn't even sure if they make a complete sentence let alone make any sense. Then Larry is defending and protecting him, pointing a gun at the people he knew and trusted.

The next thing he can hear is there are bullet sounds and then silence. The silence stretches out for far too long, threatening to bury him. He knows that Larry was shot, but was he shot dead? He doesn't have a fucking clue.

Finally some form of movement happens and it's not Mr. Pink trying to escape with the money, that slimy bastard. It's Larry and he's slowly edging his way towards Freddy. Freddy reaches out to help, even though he knows that he has no strength to even begin to. He can't tell how bad Larry's been shot but he vaguely wonders if they're both dying. It's morbid, but he's glad that Larry's here in his last moments.

They both reach out for each other just to feel each others skin, to know they're both still breathing. His head is in Larry's lap, he wants to turn around and face Larry but he's too weak and can't even begin to try. Larry's hands are rubbing the sides of his face and he can't help but awkwardly hug Larry as best as he can in the position he's in. He starts to feel safe almost like he's back with Larry in the fucking god-awful motel. He can hear himself begin to mumble. He has no clue what he's fucking saying, but he just feels the need to fill up the silence with more than his painful gasps.

Freddy feel the darkness ascend over him, and at this moment he's not sure if it's literally or figuratively. Everything's so fucked up now; this wasn't how things were supposed to go down. Nobody meant for this to happen; of course nobody means for these things to happen. But they do and they fucking ruin everything that he had wanted.

He's going to die, he knows it, but before he lets the darkness take him he has to tell Larry the truth. Freddy has to bestow Larry with the one thing he wasn't sure he could ever tell him. He has to tell him and it has to be now.

"I'm a cop," he whispers after a moment an apology soon following out of his blubbering lips. Larry was going to find out eventually, and he'd rather Larry hear it from him then some other beaten down cop.

The sound that leaves Larry's mouth is heartbreaking. Pain chilling and soul numbing, it is the sound of a heart breaking. Larry has tears in his eyes, but he still clings onto Freddy as if can't live without him. At this very moment he knows Larry still loves him no matter what he's done. Freddy relishes in that, but this was the ultimate act of betrayal and he knows what has to be done.

"I know," Larry replies in between his pain filled cries, his voice ragged with sadness.

Larry moves the gun, and Freddy sees a flash of silver before the gun is placed against him. The steel of the gun is almost warm against Freddy's clammy chin, and he welcomes it. For a moment he's scared, not of the gun and the bullet waiting to bury itself deep in his skull, but scared that Larry might not go through with it. When the cops arrive Freddy knows that it's a done deal—Larry will shoot him.

Freddy's happy (at least as happy as a man who knows he's an inch from death), knew this would happen, Larry would have to shoot him, there was no if, ands, or buts. An act of betrayal was the ultimate sin. Freddy was not angry with Larry for that, ever since he had known death was his only option this was how he had always wanted to go.


End file.
